Of Lightsabers, Lust, and Love
by Rune1
Summary: Someone drugs Master Qui-Gon and he winds up acting very strangely...Obi-Wan does his best to make sure his Master doesn't do anything too naughty. Yoda lurks in the background.


"OF LIGHTSABERS, LUST, & LOVE"  
By Jedi Rune  
  
Disclaimer: merely borrowing from Lucasfilm; they're not mine, dammit.  
  
Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, sat down at the table. Loud music from the band on the stage blared at them from all directions.  
  
"What will you be having?" the hefty barkeep asked.  
  
"Water," Qui-Gon said softly. He gathered his Jedi robes about himself. Although he seemed relaxed, the Master never kept his hand far from his lightsaber.  
  
"I'll have Torelian Suffra Juice," Obi-Wan said.  
  
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at his apprentice's choice.  
  
"It's supposed to be really good," Obi-Wan replied by way of explanation. "I hear Yoda even keeps a private stash back at the Temple."  
  
Qui-Gon smiled. His apprentice never ceased to amuse him.  
  
The barkeep quickly returned with their drinks. Obi-Wan felt the Force tugging at him and he tried to identify his odd premonition. "Master?" he turned to Qui-Gon.  
  
Qui-Gon was taking a long drink from his glass of water. It had been a stifling day and he was grateful for the coolness of the drink.  
  
"Master, the Force is telling me that something strange is going on. Do you feel it?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
Qui-Gon, meanwhile, had begun to chuckle.  
  
"Master?" Obi-Wan looked at his Master in concern.  
  
"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon said suddenly, standing bolt upright and knocking the chair over. His eyes were dilating wildly and he looked about as if unable to see anything.  
  
"Master?" Obi-Wan was now fully alarmed. He put a steadying arm on Qui-Gon's shoulder while he scanned the room suspiciously. "How do you feel? Are you okay?"  
  
Qui-Gon put a hand to his forehead. "Obi... I feel... I feel....like... like *FUNDRAISING*!!!" He shouted the last word expansively, as if at the peak of rapture.  
  
Obi-Wan's jaw fell. What in blazes was his master talking about?  
  
By now, many of the bar's patrons had turned to look at the incongruent image of a Jedi master running about the bar, his long hair flowing behind him, muttering something about franchising and fundraising.  
  
Obi-Wan did his best to calm his Master down, even attempting to use the Force to soothe him. But his efforts yielded nothing. His Master's thoughts were whirling as fast as a podracer, spinning about his mind and tripping around wildly, confusing his young apprentice.  
  
"I'll be right back, Master," Obi-Wan said to the giggling Jedi Master, praying to the Force that Qui-Gon wouldn't do anything foolish in his absence. He made his way to the backroom of the bar, keeping his hand threateningly on his lightsaber. When he found the unfortunate barkeep, he growled, "What did you put in my Master's drink?"  
  
The barkeeper was at least smart enough not to toy with a Jedi. "Nothing," he answered honestly.  
  
Obi-Wan glared down at him in barely checked fury. "Really?"  
  
"Yes." The barkeeper was beginning to tremble.  
  
"Then why is my Master acting like his drink has been spiked?" Obi-Wan tried desperately to hold onto his anger. Distantly, he heard the sounds of cheering and clapping, as well as a chorus of shrieking women. Obi-Wan paled; he needed to get back to the main room before anything got stranger.  
  
"I don't know," the barkeeper was babbling. "But I didn't do it. Someone else may have, but I didn't! Honest!"  
  
Obi-Wan used the Force to verify that the shivering barkeeper who was, incidentally, about to wet his pants, was really telling the truth. "Very well," he hissed. "I will leave- for now. But when I return, I want some answers. I suggest you begin searching for the culprit who laced my Master's drink." He turned to go, then stopped. "Oh, and just a friendly bit of advice... Jedi, even Jedi apprentices, make bad enemies. Being a Padawan, I lack the- how shall I put it?- wisdom and *restraint* of my Master. If I come back and you have not found the villain, I will be very unhappy. And when I am unhappy, I tend to fry things with my lightsaber." Obi-Wan looked contemplatively at his lightsaber, then at the barkeeper before continuing. Inwardly, he was trying hard not to laugh at the look of undisguised horror crossing the man's face at the thought of being barbecued; as if Jedi do stuff like that, he thought to himself. "I may be so unhappy that I may not be able to restrain myself from punishing *you*, instead of the real culprit." Obi-Wan paused dramatically. "I suggest you find the culprit before I return."  
  
The barkeeper was nodding with enthusiasm, barely keeping himself from passing out on the floor.  
  
Obi-Wan flourished his robes and left the room. As he reentered the bar, he wondered if he'd been too hard on the poor barkeeper. It hadn't been his fault, after all. "Oh well," he thought with a sigh. "There's no use regretting what has already been done."  
  
A loud whoop of laughter caught the young Padawan's attention. Obi-Wan turned towards the disturbance...and collapsed to the ground in shock. There, before his very eyes, was his Master- his good, kind, soft-spoken, introverted, wonderful, *decent* Master- seated quite happily behind a makeshift sign that read in brown letters "Kiss the Jedi."  
  
"By the Force..." Obi-Wan moaned. He turned scarlet as he saw his Master fulfill the dictations of the sign with manly panache, the Credits building as the line of eager women extended out the door.  
  
"Master!" he shouted above the din of excited women of all shapes and species. He had to get his beloved Master out of this mess-- and quickly, before anyone recognized him.  
  
"Master, we have to go now," he said to Qui-Gon just as he was bending over to lock lips with an exotically beautiful woman. She possessively twined her arms about the Jedi master and sighed lustily.  
  
"Three thousand credits if you'll come with me," she breathed into his ear.  
  
Qui-Gon grinned like a child and was about to walk off with the scantily clad woman when Obi-Wan broke in.  
  
"Oh no no no no," the apprentice said hastily. "I'm afraid he's not going anywhere with you." The woman turned two large, angry eyes towards Obi-Wan and grabbed Qui-Gon's hand.  
  
"Yes," she said huskily. "He is."  
  
"Uhh....m'am...I'm sorry, but, umm..." Obi-Wan cast about desperately for inspiration. He had already tried using the Force, but for some reason it hadn't worked on her. Suddenly, an idea hit him. "Ah HA!!!" he shouted. "I forbid it! Honey-" he grabbed Qui-Gon's hand from the woman's grip, "we have to go home now. You promised me we'd get to spend some quality time together." He pouted up at his Master and batted his eyelashes.  
  
Qui-Gon looked at his sulky apprentice and giggled. "Oh, Obi-Woby why didn't you tell me?"  
  
Obi-Wan fought the urge to Force push himself through the floorboards. He was certain he would die of embarrassment... Still, it seemed the only way to get his Master out of this mess. He found himself praying fervently for the billionth time that his Master would remember none of this when the drug wore off.  
  
The woman looked with shock from Qui-Gon to Obi-Won. Then, she stalked off in a huff muttering "Men!!!"  
  
Obi-Wan addressed the crowd of women waiting impatiently in a long line beneath the "Kiss the Jedi" sign. Obi-Wan was sure he could smell the gravy Qui-Gon had used to write the letters on the sign from where he was standing. "Folks, I'm sorry, but we're gonna have to close up the booth for tonight. Um, I mean, for the rest of eternity. Problems have arisen with our managing staff and we uh are going to have to move on to another planet."  
  
"Which planet?" one woman shouted. "I'll meet you there!" Her question was followed by a series of similar questions by the other women in the crowd.  
  
"Uh.... Nowhere near here." Obi-Wan, still holding his Master's hand to make sure he didn't wander away, dashed for the door.  
  
*******************  
  
It had been an hour since Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had fled into the darkness and still they were dodging women. The young apprentice was fed up with the rabid, hormone driven females and-- the Force forbid!-- eager males, all heaving lustily after his Master.  
  
"Let's make a break for that street up ahead, Master," Obi-Wan whispered.  
  
"How about we stay here, in the dark," a sultry voice answered. The grip on his hand suddenly tightened. "Make sweet love to me."  
  
"WHAT???!!!" Obi-Wan cried, horrified. "Master--" He whirled around to stave off his Master's advances....only to find a woman in a gauzy pink negligee staring boldly at him. Obi-Wan squeaked in shock.  
  
"How cute," she simpered.  
  
"Wh...How...Who..." Obi-Wan stammered, attempting to loosen her grip on his hand. "Where's my Master?"  
  
"You mean that tall, handsome hunk of man?"  
  
"Uh..." Obi-Wan paused. "Yeah, I guess that's him."  
  
"He went that way," she gestured vaguely. "He told me you needed some company." She pressed herself up against the blushing Jedi.  
  
"How could Master do this to me?" Obi-Wan whined. The other, more calculating side of his brain was saying, "How did Master replace his hand with hers so smoothly? I didn't even feel the switch!" And then there was his undeniable, as-of-yet-uncrushed all-male side that was chanting, "Awright!!! Score!!!"  
  
Unfortunately, the woman saw the latter side. She purred wickedly and was about to fling herself upon the Jedi apprentice when Obi-Wan - with a slight twinge of regret?- used the Force to persuade her to lose interest. In the middle of her passionate leap, she suddenly turned aside and began to run away, her pink negligee fluttering behind her.  
  
Obi-Wan shakily regained control of himself and forced himself to relax. "Concentrate on the task at hand," he could hear his Master-- his normal, undrugged, in control, "I-could-kick-your-sorry-Sith-butt-any-day-but-I-choose-not-to," wonderful, quiet Master-- say.  
  
Obi-Wan headed at a dead run for the Jedi Temple.  
  
*******************  
  
Qui-Gon, the best swordsman and wisest Jedi Master since Yoda, was standing studiously in front of his mirror, attempting to shave with his lightsaber.  
  
He was euphorically whistling "Give It To Me, Baby," a song he had heard one of the locals singing while on a mission last week.  
  
He laughed from time to time as he worked at neatly burning the hairs from his face. He recalled that it had taken him quite awhile when he was an apprentice to use a razor without cutting himself. He giggled when he wondered how long it would take him to use a lightsaber.  
  
Finally, after half an hour of painstaking work, Qui-Gon examined himself in the mirror. Aside from a few patches of beard that he'd missed, he thought it looked sensational.  
  
Qui-Gon skipped from his quarters, lightsaber humming in his hand, in search of adventure.  
  
*********************  
  
Master Yoda looked up abruptly in the middle of one of the Jedi Council's meetings. Eyes uncharacteristically wide and long green ears quivering, with the image of a half-clad, burnt, frollicking, 'Runs-with-lightsaber-on' Qui-Gon Jinn dancing through his mind, Yoda said in awe, "I sense a disturbance in the Force."  
  
**********************  
  
Obi-Wan Kenobi arrived at the Jedi Temple breathlessly, panting from running all the way from the bar.  
  
He took a three second break before heading to the rooms he and his Master shared. When he entered, he activated the lightswitch with a flick of his hand. He noted with dismay that his Master was not there- instead, only his brown Jedi robe lay in a pile on the floor.  
  
He tried to connect with his Master, using their tight bond, to find out where he was. "Maybe I can get to him before anyone sees him," Obi-Wan thought hopefully. He knew that when his Master regained his senses, he would be absolutely mortified if he found out that other Jedi had seen him running about the Temple obviously lacking his normal composure and dignity.  
  
Obi-Wan felt the strong connection he had with his Master pull him lightly in the direction of the Training Rooms. His Master's Jedi cloak in hand, Obi-Wan swiftly left their quarters with determined strides.  
  
No more than thirteen paces out of the door, Obi-Wan came upon a heap of clothing. He skidded to a halt and knelt to examine it, pleading with the Force that it wasn't what he thought it was... but unfortunately, the young apprentice was right. It was a Jedi tunic. Obi-Wan didn't need the Force to tell him exactly whose tunic it was. More worried than ever, he jogged down the hallway, stooping every once in awhile to pick up various articles of clothing- two black boots, a cream colored undershirt, a hair clasp, socks, and finally, a pair of brown Jedi pants. Obi-Wan looked at the final article with dread. If he had kept a correct account of all the clothing he had collected so far, that left his Master with only his....  
  
Obi-Wan tore off towards the Training Rooms at a dead run.  
  
**********************  
  
Master Qui-Gon was at that very moment seated atop a levitating chair, using the Force to keep both him and his comfortable prop in the air.  
  
He had a lot of thinking to do. He firmly believed that his booth had been a success; he was contemplating establishing a permanent one in the marketplace. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as the chair dipped beneath him. He was so tired; it was getting a bit hard to just keep his eyes open.  
  
Suddenly, someone exploded into the room. Qui-Gon yelled in astonishment and flipped over in his chair, plummeting towards the ground. He managed to stop himself before he hit the mat. "Obi-Wan!" he cried joyously. He was glad in some unexplainably euphoric way to see his apprentice.  
  
Obi-Wan merely gaped at him. Before him was the man he had revered and looked upon as a role model and father, airborn and doing cartwheels in his polka dotted underwear.  
  
His Master's clothes fell from his nerveless hands. Obi-Wan blanched and used the Force to lock the door to the Training Room. He needed to get his Master into some clothes before anyone saw him.  
  
"Uh, Master," he began hesitantly, trying to think of a way to coax his drugged mentor into dressing, "I have a favor to--"  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon cut his apprentice off solemnly.  
  
Obi-Wan looked up at him with a glimmer of hope at the familiar tone of his Master's voice. "Yes?"  
  
"It is of the utmost importance that you do something for me."  
  
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan began to relax, thinking that finally the drug was wearing off.  
  
"I need your lightsaber."  
  
"Huh?" The hope in his Master's returning sanity was beginning to slip away again.  
  
"I need your lightsaber," the Jedi Master repeated seriously. "Obi-Wan, it is of the utmost importance that you lend it to me."  
  
Obi-Wan fiddled with the weapon hanging from his utility belt. "Well..."  
  
"You don't trust me." His Master sounded sad and disappointed.  
  
"No!" Obi-Wan shouted quickly. "That's not it at all!"  
  
"What, then?" Qui-Gon's soft, hurt eyes turned to his Padawan.  
  
"It's just that...that...Master, your drink was drugged in the bar and I don't know if it's effects have worn off yet. You were doing some strange things back there." He eyed his Master, floating in the air in his undies and added, "You still don't seem yourself."  
  
Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan's eyes to his underwear. "I wish to be one with the Force, Padawan-one with all around me. It is time that you stop clinging to a distant conception of the Force, Obi-Wan, and try to understand the here and now, what exists around you. I have shed my clothing to further identify with my surroundings. You may do so, if you wish." He floated serenely above Obi-Wan, his hands clasped and eyes gentle.  
  
For some strange reason, Obi-Wan felt the familiar sense of peace and wisdom surrounding his Master once more. He hesitated for just a moment longer before he did what his Master advised and took off his clothing. Soon, he, too, was hovering beside Qui-Gon in his underwear. He was slightly ashamed at the red hearts and rainbows covering his underwear, but tried to pretend that he didn't care.  
  
"You feel the very essence of the Force, my Padawan?"  
  
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan was filled with elation. Never before had he reached this unity with the Living Force; he felt totally exhilarated.  
  
"Good. Now, Padawan," Qui-Gon said softly, "the lightsaber."  
  
"But what are you to use it for?" Obi-Wan asked curiously, now assured that the drug had worn off.  
  
"You question my authority?" Qui-Gon asked again in that same weary voice Obi-Won knew all too well.  
  
"No, Master."  
  
"Then, hand me your lightsaber."  
  
Obi-Wan called to his weapon with the Force. The lightsaber floated to his hand. He gave the weapon to Qui-Gon.  
  
"Now, stand back Padawan, I wish to teach you something. But it isn't safe if you are close."  
  
Obi-Wan obediently floated to the other side of the room.  
  
Qui-Gon called to his own lightsaber, which was lying near the door. It flew to his hand smoothly. Qui-Gon ignited first his own blade, then Obi-Wan's. The hum of the green and blue lightsabers filled the room.  
  
"I will now practice," Qui-Gon said quietly, closing his eyes.  
  
"Practice what?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
"JUGGLING!!!!!!" Qui-Gon shouted enthusiastically.  
  
Obi-Wan was so startled at his Master's sudden change of tone that he lost control of the Force and dropped to the ground, landing with a thud on the mat. He watched in absolute terror as his Master juggled the two lightsabers while hovering in the air. He gasped every time Qui-Gon seemed about to make a mistake. The drug, Obi-Wan realized, had most definitely not worn off.  
  
With a cry of glee, Qui-Gon dropped to the ground, still juggling the lightsabers, and opened the door with the Force. Obi-Wan watched in horror as both his own clothes and his Master's floated after him.  
  
In the sudden overwhelming silence that followed his Master's exit, Obi-Wan sat on the training mats. He looked down at himself- he was wearing only his rainbow and heart covered underwear. "How am I going to get back to my room?" he moaned. With his luck, the entire Jedi Council would probably see him before he reached the safety of his quarters. He grimly resolved to properly punish whoever had drugged his Master's water; Qui-Gon, after all, would never in a million years do this to his apprentice if he'd been in his normal frame of mind.  
  
"Well," he thought to himself, trying to screw his courage to the sticking plate, "I'd better get this over with."  
  
He poked his head out the door and, when it was all clear, dashed for his room. Unluckily, he had missed the telltale tapping of a gimmer stick on the floor somewhere nearby...  
  
***************************  
  
Qui-Gon awoke the next morning with a splitting headache. He ached in every joint. For some reason, he had no idea what had happened last night; his memory was a total blank. He only remembered going into that bar with Obi-Wan, ordering a drink, sipping the water.....then nothing.  
  
Very cautiously, he sat up and shook his head to clear it. For some strange reason, he was lying across his bed with two lightsabers beside him- his and Obi-Wan's. There was also a whole bunch of clothes lying on the floor. "What in the name of the Force happened last night?" he asked out loud, frowning.  
  
As if on cue, there was a chime at his door.  
  
Qui-Gon sat up...then realized he was wearing only underwear...his polka dotted ones, at that. The "come in" died on his lips. He hopped up madly and pulled on the nearest item of clothing. "Wait just a minute, please," he said, hoping he didn't sound too disoriented. The pants he had been trying to tug on were too short and too tight; Qui-Gon threw them aside and dove into the pile of clothing, desperately trying to find his own pair. With triumph, he located them and yanked them on, then pulled on what was -hopefully- his own tunic. He smoothed back his hair, used the Force to dump all the clothes into Obi-Wan's room until their guest left, then said with as much composure as he could muster- which was, for Qui-Gon, always substantial- "Come in."  
  
Tapping his gimmer stick, Yoda came in with what Qui-Gon thought looked suspiciously like a smirk. Had his Master known he was wearing only his underwear? Qui-Gon shuddered and hoped not.  
  
"Found your apprentice last night I did," Yoda said.  
  
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. He *found* Obi-Wan? What did that mean?  
  
"Running around the Temple Halls in rainbow underwear he was."  
  
Qui-Gon coughed loudly to cover his surprise.  
  
"Alright you are?" Yoda asked mildly.  
  
"Yes, thank you, Master." Qui-Gon cleared his throat.  
  
"Explain you must to Jedi Council why wandering the Jedi Temple your Padawan was in his underwear." Yoda looked cheekily up at his former student.  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"Rumors we have heard also that two Jedi in a bar were seen beneath a "Kiss the Jedi" sign." Yoda stared at Qui-Gon, a smile peeking from the corners of his mouth. "Also word have I received of a Jedi Master through the Temple halls running in his polka dotted underwear juggling lightsabers. True this is?"  
  
Qui-Gon could only gape.  
  
"You and your Padawan's presence the Council requests in five minutes, Master Jinn," Yoda said smugly as he tapped his way out the door. "Wear clothes you will."  
  
"Yes, Master. We'll be there." Qui-Gon felt like killing himself; oh, the horror, the embarrassment...  
  
"Oh," Yoda said, turning to look impishly over his shoulder at his former student. "Improved your looks shaving with a lightsaber did not."  
  
Qui-Gon repeated automatically, "Yes, Master," before Yoda's words sunk in. Visibly paling, Qui-Gon ran to the bathroom, nearly steamrollering over Obi-Wan, who had been listening from the next room.  
  
A shout of total horror echoed from the Jedi Master's bathroom. Yoda cackled as he tapped his way down the hall.  
  



End file.
